Posts
Well I feel I need to blog and give an update on my back situation. Fortunately we have web access in Canoa and I can reach the BBC web site very easily, however not a mention is made about my condition so I guess its been kept under wraps for the sake of the nations moral through these difficult times.
Things where going ever so well. After 3 days taking it easy and over dosing on IBUPROFEN I was feeling much better, but then after a trip to the loo for my morning constitution all hell broke lose as I tried to raise myself from the pan. Don't worry, there is no video evidence of this...... so don't ask.
The back gave way again and I was back to square one, but this time the pain and lack of mobility was even worst than last time.
So now we have decided to extend our stay and make sure I don't move from my bed for two or three days. No trip to the beach, no stroll to the shops and no wandering to the local bar. Just bed.
Anyone who knows me knows I am a patient man, blessed with long attention spans and abilities to remain still for indefinite amounts of time, so this is a walk in the park for me.
IT IS DRIVING ME CRAZY but all part of the motorcycling adventure I keep telling myself.
Sandra has gone straight into nurse mode and is looking after me, bringing food and beer almost upon request. She even took the bus into the next town today, the first time we have spent time apart since the trip began. Not many couples can boast over 4 months together without a break and without killing each other but we have, mainly because she is wonderful.
So there you have it, still knackered but on the mend again and refusing to go to the loo till this has all blown over
Friday, October 23, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
The Sheds back and bad backs
Well, we stayed in Quito for quite some time, longer than expected due to the holiday weekend and waiting for the Shed to come out of intensive care. I was really uneasy waiting for news about the bike not even sure which part of the city the bike was actually in. We only had e mail contact with Diego and Skype kept letting us down on quality so it became unusable, so for me at least it was an anxious time.
Me Yelling at the PC as Skype failed us
Still we used the time productively visiting the old town and watching the odd game of football in the nearest Irish bar.
Now all travellers know that there is an Irish bar in every town or city anywhere in the world, usually filled with ex pats and locals alike and usually all drinking way to much Guinness. Still they are a great refuge from local bars when you need something that resembles familiarity. Finn McCools was the chosen local. It served up a mean bacon sandwich and we met some great, if not completely mad people in there.
Anyway we finally got the word that the shed was off life support and was about to be discharged into our care. We couldn't wait.
Diego had one last surprise for us -a night time trip around the old town with some local fare thrown in. The town was amazing at night and Diego told us how the Ecuadorian's ousted any prime minister or president they felt was not doing a good job. They simply surround the presidents' residence and chant for a few hours until a helicopter flies the incumbent off to Panama and then swear in the next guy. This has happened on numerous occasions and is something some people in the UK might Envy.
The shed was back and at full strength again. It was great not to have her chugging away but back to her almost sprightly self. We were ready to leave. It's odd but after just a few days off the bike you can't wait to get back on the road. White line fever I think its called and something we would have to get used to, but more of that later.
We got out of the city quickly and very early and headed north. I find it very odd heading north on a southern direction journey. We actually went into the northern hemisphere again. There is just something wrong about it and I find little enthusiasm for it. However, it was necessary as we wanted to take the coast road through Ecuador and we wanted to do as much as we could. We stopped at a place called Mindo, a fantastic little village with hostels and the usual town square.
We had coffee and a butty, then onwards towards Esmeraldas (twined with Quasimodo in France) This is a big town that we wished to avoid so we turned left down the coast and stayed at a seaside village called Sua.
Not many hotels were open as the season for tourists has long gone. However, we did find one hotel partly refurbished that took us in. It was run by (presumably) a man and wife team, but the man did everything, fixed the railings, signed us in, took (and presumably cooked) our order for lunch and breakfast whilst his good lady did nothing except sit at a table giving directions and eating. The poor bloke never stopped working and his wife never stopped eating. However I did manage a first at this hotel. I am 50 years old and have never slept in a hammock. This was quickly rectified with one of the many hotel hammocks available. There was no comedy falling out as I got in and I think hammocks suite me.
It was funny the next morning as we got ready to check out. Sandra picked up the breakfast menu from the bar from underneath a fully loaded pump action shotgun with a sawn off stock. She did not even notice it but it woke me up I can tell you.
From Sau we went down the coast to our current location Canoa. The road was very odd indeed with almost continuous road works running its full 200 miles. Instead of improving one section at a time and then moving on, the whole road was being done at once except, we hardly saw anyone working on it at all. The reason for this as we were told later is purely political, so that everyone gets to see some improvement and not just one area. Heaven knows how long this will take but it sure is not going to be quick.
We had no idea what to expect as usual when we reached Canoa. but what a place its turned out to be. A collection of restaurants and bars (yes one is an Irish bar) nestled on the beautiful beach and quiet frankly, wonderful. We love it, which is a good job as we have been here nearly a week now. The reason for this lengthy stay is my fault. Me, bikes and sand do not get along and would you believe it, I have had an accident. Oh how I would love to tell you it was a dramatic spill, the bike sideways as the courageous rider tried to maintain control through some terrifying leap over a sand dune, but no. I was parking the bike on the sand and the front gave way. I tried to steady it with my leg, failed miserable and the bike went over and I put my back out. Now this is all on video but I am way to embarrassed to show it to you, unless popular demand forces me to release it.
So now after six days or so I am slowly recovering popping pills like there M and Ms and my back is getting better everyday. This extended stop over has integrated us somewhat into the community here and we have had a great time finding out about the people and why there have ended up in Canoa. A real education and I think we will miss this town very much.
Me Yelling at the PC as Skype failed usStill we used the time productively visiting the old town and watching the odd game of football in the nearest Irish bar.
Now all travellers know that there is an Irish bar in every town or city anywhere in the world, usually filled with ex pats and locals alike and usually all drinking way to much Guinness. Still they are a great refuge from local bars when you need something that resembles familiarity. Finn McCools was the chosen local. It served up a mean bacon sandwich and we met some great, if not completely mad people in there.
Anyway we finally got the word that the shed was off life support and was about to be discharged into our care. We couldn't wait.
Diego had one last surprise for us -a night time trip around the old town with some local fare thrown in. The town was amazing at night and Diego told us how the Ecuadorian's ousted any prime minister or president they felt was not doing a good job. They simply surround the presidents' residence and chant for a few hours until a helicopter flies the incumbent off to Panama and then swear in the next guy. This has happened on numerous occasions and is something some people in the UK might Envy.
The shed was back and at full strength again. It was great not to have her chugging away but back to her almost sprightly self. We were ready to leave. It's odd but after just a few days off the bike you can't wait to get back on the road. White line fever I think its called and something we would have to get used to, but more of that later.
We got out of the city quickly and very early and headed north. I find it very odd heading north on a southern direction journey. We actually went into the northern hemisphere again. There is just something wrong about it and I find little enthusiasm for it. However, it was necessary as we wanted to take the coast road through Ecuador and we wanted to do as much as we could. We stopped at a place called Mindo, a fantastic little village with hostels and the usual town square.
We had coffee and a butty, then onwards towards Esmeraldas (twined with Quasimodo in France) This is a big town that we wished to avoid so we turned left down the coast and stayed at a seaside village called Sua.
Not many hotels were open as the season for tourists has long gone. However, we did find one hotel partly refurbished that took us in. It was run by (presumably) a man and wife team, but the man did everything, fixed the railings, signed us in, took (and presumably cooked) our order for lunch and breakfast whilst his good lady did nothing except sit at a table giving directions and eating. The poor bloke never stopped working and his wife never stopped eating. However I did manage a first at this hotel. I am 50 years old and have never slept in a hammock. This was quickly rectified with one of the many hotel hammocks available. There was no comedy falling out as I got in and I think hammocks suite me.
It was funny the next morning as we got ready to check out. Sandra picked up the breakfast menu from the bar from underneath a fully loaded pump action shotgun with a sawn off stock. She did not even notice it but it woke me up I can tell you.
From Sau we went down the coast to our current location Canoa. The road was very odd indeed with almost continuous road works running its full 200 miles. Instead of improving one section at a time and then moving on, the whole road was being done at once except, we hardly saw anyone working on it at all. The reason for this as we were told later is purely political, so that everyone gets to see some improvement and not just one area. Heaven knows how long this will take but it sure is not going to be quick.
We had no idea what to expect as usual when we reached Canoa. but what a place its turned out to be. A collection of restaurants and bars (yes one is an Irish bar) nestled on the beautiful beach and quiet frankly, wonderful. We love it, which is a good job as we have been here nearly a week now. The reason for this lengthy stay is my fault. Me, bikes and sand do not get along and would you believe it, I have had an accident. Oh how I would love to tell you it was a dramatic spill, the bike sideways as the courageous rider tried to maintain control through some terrifying leap over a sand dune, but no. I was parking the bike on the sand and the front gave way. I tried to steady it with my leg, failed miserable and the bike went over and I put my back out. Now this is all on video but I am way to embarrassed to show it to you, unless popular demand forces me to release it.
So now after six days or so I am slowly recovering popping pills like there M and Ms and my back is getting better everyday. This extended stop over has integrated us somewhat into the community here and we have had a great time finding out about the people and why there have ended up in Canoa. A real education and I think we will miss this town very much.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
A sick shed but a promise kept
After a good nights rest in Pereira and the storm long gone we set of early and had an uneventful ride south to Cali. The scenery is still breathtaking and each of these countries we pass through dispels any preconceived ideas of what we thought the countries would look like. All, without exception, have never failed to impress.
Cali is a big city and is very busy indeed. We stayed in a hotel and tried to walk to the centre only finding ourselves in the wrong part of town where the sex trade flourishes. A quick detour got us back into the centre and some normality and, of course beer time. We found a small bar in a hotel and, in our best Spanish ordered "dos cervasus - two beers". What we got was a set meal for two with orange juice. Being the reserved English types we pretended that was what we ordered and tried to eat it. It wasn't good and we only ate a little, paid the bill which thankfully was small, and left. This was yet another victory for our fluency in Spanish. The further south you travel the less people understand Spanish. As Sandra and I are both fluent in Spanish we can only assume that some new language has been introduced which is alien to us.
Anyway from Cali we rode to Popayan. This is where things started to go a little wrong for us. I had noticed the day before the Shed had a cough and splutter at around 4000RPM, and as we rode today it got steadily worse affecting the whole rev range. As we approached Popayan the Shed was awful. We had asked the owner of a gas station for some new plugs and he promptly called his bike mechanic friend and gave us directions to his place in the town, It was next to the Honda dealership he said. Well we couldn't find the workshop so I popped into the Honda dealership and ask for directions. At this point all hell broke loose. Once they realised we had a problem, the owner of the dealership jumped on the shed and was going to test ride it. I only wanted directions but these chaps where hell bent on helping. I persuaded him I would ride and he was pillion. A quick run up the road and he could feel the problem, Into the workshop all other work stopped on the sea of 125cc bikes and 4 mechanics set to work. Unfortunately their efforts where in vain and the problem still persisted.
Now what to do? We could ride on to the border and into Ecuador where we had a mechanic on stand by or try and fix it in Columbia. We decided to press on. Careful riding and overtaking was required but we made it to the border in torrential rain, got through in record time and no money changing hands whatsoever, we set of for the border town of Tulcan. What a shock this was. At 2600 meters this place is cold and damp. Everyone was in winter gear and we got very cold indeed. Usual strugglel to find a comfortable bed and a good meal. The Shed, still very ill, was driven down a large ramp to the hotel garage. This ramp proved to be almost impossible to get out of the next morning with a cold and sick bike. It took me three goes and a run up to clear it.
We had contacted Diego our mechanic friend in Quito and got directions to his workshop. On the way to Quito we passed the real equator where we stopped and had the pictures of Sandra and I in different hemispheres and the sick shed on the actual line.
The Correct equator
There is a little confusion about the equator in Ecuador which is a little odd. In 1985 the Ecuadorians built a big fancy tower on the site of the original equator mark (worked out using a abbucus by the French some 100 years earlier). This monument is very fancy and has a string of attractions around it. Unfortunately 12 years ago, the USA military took a look using the latest military Global positioning system and found the monument was in fact 250 meters north of the actual equator line. I would have loved to have been at the meeting where this was explained to the board of directors of the monument. A bit of a cock up in my book.
Anyway we were in for another surprise when we met Diego. A very young man indeed and not the grey beard life time mechanic I had thought he would be. We met in a gas station. Diego turning up on a competition off roading bike with a massive grin and a big welcome. After my initial surprise we found Diego to be a professional and careful mechanic, listening intently to the symptoms of the bike and discussing all the other bits and bobs we needed to do. We met his family and visited his workshop and knew our bike was in very very capable hands. Diego drove us to our hostel where we checked in for five or six days. Its nice not riding or having to sit on the bike for a week. We can get a lot done while the shed is in intensive care.
We went to the aforementioned wrong equator, which turned out to be very beneficial. Two crazy bus rides there and back, one of the rides having nearly severed my arm as it got caught in the hydrolic guillotine door of the overcrowded bus. Even though the monument to the equator is in the wrong place it is still very important to the Ecuadorians and it is visited by lots of tourists.
The Wrong equator
It is surrounded by lots of shops and cafes too. One of these cafes sold spit roasted Guinea pigs. Now Richard is my best friend, and being a friend of Richard's carries it's rewards and penalties. Richard has organised surprise bungy jumps for me, almost had me arrested in China and ha,s in the past, got me into trouble more than once. Richard has always insisted that when we reach South America I must eat a spit roasted guinea pig.
Now these things in Ecuador are a delicacy and quiet frankly not cheap. But a promise was a promise and a freshly dead and roasted guinea pig was ordered
Well that's that. I wont be eating another but I'm sure Richard with have some equally unpleasant challenge waiting. On reflection we really like Ecuador and particularly Quito. We are staying in an area where back packers thrive and we are enjoying the whole buzz of the place.
Cali is a big city and is very busy indeed. We stayed in a hotel and tried to walk to the centre only finding ourselves in the wrong part of town where the sex trade flourishes. A quick detour got us back into the centre and some normality and, of course beer time. We found a small bar in a hotel and, in our best Spanish ordered "dos cervasus - two beers". What we got was a set meal for two with orange juice. Being the reserved English types we pretended that was what we ordered and tried to eat it. It wasn't good and we only ate a little, paid the bill which thankfully was small, and left. This was yet another victory for our fluency in Spanish. The further south you travel the less people understand Spanish. As Sandra and I are both fluent in Spanish we can only assume that some new language has been introduced which is alien to us.
Anyway from Cali we rode to Popayan. This is where things started to go a little wrong for us. I had noticed the day before the Shed had a cough and splutter at around 4000RPM, and as we rode today it got steadily worse affecting the whole rev range. As we approached Popayan the Shed was awful. We had asked the owner of a gas station for some new plugs and he promptly called his bike mechanic friend and gave us directions to his place in the town, It was next to the Honda dealership he said. Well we couldn't find the workshop so I popped into the Honda dealership and ask for directions. At this point all hell broke loose. Once they realised we had a problem, the owner of the dealership jumped on the shed and was going to test ride it. I only wanted directions but these chaps where hell bent on helping. I persuaded him I would ride and he was pillion. A quick run up the road and he could feel the problem, Into the workshop all other work stopped on the sea of 125cc bikes and 4 mechanics set to work. Unfortunately their efforts where in vain and the problem still persisted.
Now what to do? We could ride on to the border and into Ecuador where we had a mechanic on stand by or try and fix it in Columbia. We decided to press on. Careful riding and overtaking was required but we made it to the border in torrential rain, got through in record time and no money changing hands whatsoever, we set of for the border town of Tulcan. What a shock this was. At 2600 meters this place is cold and damp. Everyone was in winter gear and we got very cold indeed. Usual strugglel to find a comfortable bed and a good meal. The Shed, still very ill, was driven down a large ramp to the hotel garage. This ramp proved to be almost impossible to get out of the next morning with a cold and sick bike. It took me three goes and a run up to clear it.
We had contacted Diego our mechanic friend in Quito and got directions to his workshop. On the way to Quito we passed the real equator where we stopped and had the pictures of Sandra and I in different hemispheres and the sick shed on the actual line.
The Correct equator
There is a little confusion about the equator in Ecuador which is a little odd. In 1985 the Ecuadorians built a big fancy tower on the site of the original equator mark (worked out using a abbucus by the French some 100 years earlier). This monument is very fancy and has a string of attractions around it. Unfortunately 12 years ago, the USA military took a look using the latest military Global positioning system and found the monument was in fact 250 meters north of the actual equator line. I would have loved to have been at the meeting where this was explained to the board of directors of the monument. A bit of a cock up in my book.
Anyway we were in for another surprise when we met Diego. A very young man indeed and not the grey beard life time mechanic I had thought he would be. We met in a gas station. Diego turning up on a competition off roading bike with a massive grin and a big welcome. After my initial surprise we found Diego to be a professional and careful mechanic, listening intently to the symptoms of the bike and discussing all the other bits and bobs we needed to do. We met his family and visited his workshop and knew our bike was in very very capable hands. Diego drove us to our hostel where we checked in for five or six days. Its nice not riding or having to sit on the bike for a week. We can get a lot done while the shed is in intensive care.
We went to the aforementioned wrong equator, which turned out to be very beneficial. Two crazy bus rides there and back, one of the rides having nearly severed my arm as it got caught in the hydrolic guillotine door of the overcrowded bus. Even though the monument to the equator is in the wrong place it is still very important to the Ecuadorians and it is visited by lots of tourists.
The Wrong equatorIt is surrounded by lots of shops and cafes too. One of these cafes sold spit roasted Guinea pigs. Now Richard is my best friend, and being a friend of Richard's carries it's rewards and penalties. Richard has organised surprise bungy jumps for me, almost had me arrested in China and ha,s in the past, got me into trouble more than once. Richard has always insisted that when we reach South America I must eat a spit roasted guinea pig.
Now these things in Ecuador are a delicacy and quiet frankly not cheap. But a promise was a promise and a freshly dead and roasted guinea pig was ordered
Well that's that. I wont be eating another but I'm sure Richard with have some equally unpleasant challenge waiting. On reflection we really like Ecuador and particularly Quito. We are staying in an area where back packers thrive and we are enjoying the whole buzz of the place.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Museums, mines and monsoons
We eased our way into the South American way of life. Bogota has a lot to offer and we took full advantage. Just as well as things would get sticky later on. We stayed (deliberately) in the same hotel as Globebusters. These guys know how to pick hotels and we took advantage of the group rate (thanks Kevin). This enabled us to sort out all the paper work for temporarily importing the shed and gave us a chance to chat to the group.
Arriving a day earlier than the main group, Kevin and I got our bikes early which gave Sandra and I transport around the city. On the way back from the airport to the hotel for the first time I noticed some odd handling characteristics from the shed. Something wasn't quite right. I put this down to the tires being deflated a little for the plane journey. I also noticed we were out of petrol. My early modification's plan for the Shed was to get in excess of 300 miles on one tank of petrol. I have only taken this near the mark once, in the Yukon in Canada, remember? Then it went to 285 miles and now the odometer read 306 miles and the nearest gas station was some 6-7 Km away. Anyway, we did it, but it was a bit nerve racking taking the shed into one of the most notorious cities in the world with only fumes in the tank. Anyway, after a pleasant evening in the hotel the next day was going to be spent locating a new speedo cable for the Shed so it was off to BMW Bogota. Whoooo , what a facility this is. Gleaming new bikes and cars with fully integrated, and a well equipped workshop. I ordered the part and went back to the hotel, the bike still feeling very odd indeed.
While we waited for the part Sandra and I had decided to visit the famous Gold museum at the other side of town. A fantastic new building full of.... well full of gold stuff from a long time ago. Now I know you should like this stuff. I have been told its important and I guess it is....... but after three big rooms of gold stuff you kind of get a bit jaded and frankly bored. I hid my boredom very well, Sandra seemed to enjoy it. I humped and moped about, shrugged my shoulders and dragged my feet, This was a seriously dull place. Sandra, with her sixth scene picked up on this, and it was soon time to leave.
Now it was time to take in the atmosphere outside the museum, much more interesting, firstly it is teaming with people and secondly there was a very big police presence, including riot police with shields, a huge armored car with the optional extra water canon, and a Jehovah Witness (no where is safe from them) who collared us and told us not to be so selfish in the future. I never knew we were, so I have decided to ignore his advice. After looking around for a bit we took a ride back in a taxi to the hotel. The other globebusters group members turned up, so an evening of drinking and swapping stories commenced.
The next day Sandra and I where due to get our speedo cable from the dealer. I got the bike out and it was a bugger to get off the stand or even push it. I now know the trouble with the bike, a flat and I mean really flat rear tire. I shoved some air in it and rode to the dealer to take a closer look.
A screw had buried itself in the tire and was slowly letting the air out. Fortunately I had brought along a puncture repair kit and soon had it fixed.
I was also told the part would be another day which meant we had to hang around for 24 hours, but since we had decided to visit the cathedral made of salt, (My dad is a big salt fan, he would love this place) it fell in with our plans. Some 50Km north and the tire holding its correct pressure we came to a town called Zipaquira, found the salt cathedral and in we went.
Basically it's an underground salt mine that has been converted into a cathedral. Unlike the gold museum this place grabbed my attention and I thought it was an incredible to look around.
So much so when I get back home I am going to build a church entirely from them sachets of tomato sauce you get at cheap restaurants.
We headed back to the BMW dealer to make sure the part had not turned up, it hadn't. Now after two nights with the globebusters we had felt a bit like hanger ons and both Sandra and I felt uncomfortable with this. Not because the group had not made us feel unwelcome, quite the opposite, we have made some friends there, but we both felt that this is our adventure and it was time to be on our own again. So we found a great hotel with a super knock down rate and spent our last night in Bogota.
The next morning saw a late start as I finally retrieved the speedo cable. This proved to be a problem getting out of the city on a Saturday morning at 10:30. It took well over an hour and tempers frayed at the huge traffic jams, the shed is not happy in them and neither am I. We where heading for a town called Honda to the west of Bogota. It looked close on the map, but is twice as far due to the twists and turns in the road. A great biking road with lots of mad Columbian drivers all trying to ignore any rule and get to their destination by any means.
Endless hairpins, beautiful scenery, the journey marred only by my sudden braking due to a truck having completely flatten one of the gazillion 125cc motorbikes. It's rider was some 50 meters down the road being looked at by other passes by. I prepared myself for the worst as we passed the chap who was alert and conscious, his leg was not in the right place and pointing the wrong way, but he seemed (other than that) to be OK. A stark reminder of what can happen. We pressed on, a little slower than before, till we reached the Metropolis of Honda, a small town nestled in the mountains with a mucky old river running through it. We have learnt now not to stay in the first hotel we see and to check every room before we decided, so we took over an hour looking at 3 or 4 hotels and then decided to stay at the first one we saw..... typical. We parked up the bike and got settled in, went into the town and immediately felt more foreign then ever - no tourists just locals, all very friendly mind you. This town could only be 2Km square with a few thousand people and oddly 400 taxi's, we have never seen so many in such a small town, we wondered what they did and who went where....very odd.
Anyway we found a small place in which to eat, Sandra's mastery of the Spanish language saw two perfectly cooked cheese toasties turn up on our table, they were really nice. To finish off we thought we would have a banana split. Now I could order these easily at it was advertised in big letters on the front window. "Dos" I said to the helpless waitress as I pointed at the big letters on the window. She smiled at went off to make them. Feeling pleased with myself I sat back down and readied myself for the fruit and ice feast we would surely be eating. Sadly we had to eat another round of cheese toasties as our waitress had not understood a dam thing. We toyed with trying again but the moment had gone and a third cheese toastie would have pushed us over the edge. So, we bought two cans of beer and went back to our room. It was only then in the dingy light of a single uncovered bulb, the old wooden ceiling fan pushing only hot air around the pale yellow walls and barred windows, that I realised how like an old 1950 movie it was, The hapless Europeans lay side by side on a cotton coved mattress in the Columbian heat trying to keep cool sipping beer from a can and eventually Irish whiskey straight from the bottle. It made us both smile.
The next morning we woke early, this was easy as we never actually went to sleep. Saturday night is party night in Honda and boy, these chaps party on. Music, shouting, police sirens and just as I nodded off at around 5 am, the cathedral bell ringers, who obviously live 50 miles away decided it was time the Robinson's had had enough sleep and the call to church was made.
From Honda it was more fantastic roads to Pereira which was our next planned stop. We now have a plan regarding finding a hotel. You find the best one you can, often very posh, ask the rate (knowing full well you cant afford it). Then look sad and ask for another hotel, one of two things will happen, The rate is reduced as if by magic or (this is my favorite) the bell boy will tell you where you can get a really good hotel at a really good rate. Works every time. Anyway, after we had got our fantastically overpriced rate and we both looked sad the rain outside started to come down. It got faster and faster, hail, winds and a proper storm hit us. It was incredible,
We waited out the storm with some anxiety as the shed was left outside and by luck facing into wind or she would have been over. The doors from the overpriced hotel actually blew in and water was everywhere, And as soon as it started it stopped. We found our way to the responsibly priced hotel and had a great night.
Arriving a day earlier than the main group, Kevin and I got our bikes early which gave Sandra and I transport around the city. On the way back from the airport to the hotel for the first time I noticed some odd handling characteristics from the shed. Something wasn't quite right. I put this down to the tires being deflated a little for the plane journey. I also noticed we were out of petrol. My early modification's plan for the Shed was to get in excess of 300 miles on one tank of petrol. I have only taken this near the mark once, in the Yukon in Canada, remember? Then it went to 285 miles and now the odometer read 306 miles and the nearest gas station was some 6-7 Km away. Anyway, we did it, but it was a bit nerve racking taking the shed into one of the most notorious cities in the world with only fumes in the tank. Anyway, after a pleasant evening in the hotel the next day was going to be spent locating a new speedo cable for the Shed so it was off to BMW Bogota. Whoooo , what a facility this is. Gleaming new bikes and cars with fully integrated, and a well equipped workshop. I ordered the part and went back to the hotel, the bike still feeling very odd indeed.
While we waited for the part Sandra and I had decided to visit the famous Gold museum at the other side of town. A fantastic new building full of.... well full of gold stuff from a long time ago. Now I know you should like this stuff. I have been told its important and I guess it is....... but after three big rooms of gold stuff you kind of get a bit jaded and frankly bored. I hid my boredom very well, Sandra seemed to enjoy it. I humped and moped about, shrugged my shoulders and dragged my feet, This was a seriously dull place. Sandra, with her sixth scene picked up on this, and it was soon time to leave.
Now it was time to take in the atmosphere outside the museum, much more interesting, firstly it is teaming with people and secondly there was a very big police presence, including riot police with shields, a huge armored car with the optional extra water canon, and a Jehovah Witness (no where is safe from them) who collared us and told us not to be so selfish in the future. I never knew we were, so I have decided to ignore his advice. After looking around for a bit we took a ride back in a taxi to the hotel. The other globebusters group members turned up, so an evening of drinking and swapping stories commenced.
The next day Sandra and I where due to get our speedo cable from the dealer. I got the bike out and it was a bugger to get off the stand or even push it. I now know the trouble with the bike, a flat and I mean really flat rear tire. I shoved some air in it and rode to the dealer to take a closer look.
A screw had buried itself in the tire and was slowly letting the air out. Fortunately I had brought along a puncture repair kit and soon had it fixed.
I was also told the part would be another day which meant we had to hang around for 24 hours, but since we had decided to visit the cathedral made of salt, (My dad is a big salt fan, he would love this place) it fell in with our plans. Some 50Km north and the tire holding its correct pressure we came to a town called Zipaquira, found the salt cathedral and in we went.Basically it's an underground salt mine that has been converted into a cathedral. Unlike the gold museum this place grabbed my attention and I thought it was an incredible to look around.
So much so when I get back home I am going to build a church entirely from them sachets of tomato sauce you get at cheap restaurants.We headed back to the BMW dealer to make sure the part had not turned up, it hadn't. Now after two nights with the globebusters we had felt a bit like hanger ons and both Sandra and I felt uncomfortable with this. Not because the group had not made us feel unwelcome, quite the opposite, we have made some friends there, but we both felt that this is our adventure and it was time to be on our own again. So we found a great hotel with a super knock down rate and spent our last night in Bogota.
The next morning saw a late start as I finally retrieved the speedo cable. This proved to be a problem getting out of the city on a Saturday morning at 10:30. It took well over an hour and tempers frayed at the huge traffic jams, the shed is not happy in them and neither am I. We where heading for a town called Honda to the west of Bogota. It looked close on the map, but is twice as far due to the twists and turns in the road. A great biking road with lots of mad Columbian drivers all trying to ignore any rule and get to their destination by any means.
Endless hairpins, beautiful scenery, the journey marred only by my sudden braking due to a truck having completely flatten one of the gazillion 125cc motorbikes. It's rider was some 50 meters down the road being looked at by other passes by. I prepared myself for the worst as we passed the chap who was alert and conscious, his leg was not in the right place and pointing the wrong way, but he seemed (other than that) to be OK. A stark reminder of what can happen. We pressed on, a little slower than before, till we reached the Metropolis of Honda, a small town nestled in the mountains with a mucky old river running through it. We have learnt now not to stay in the first hotel we see and to check every room before we decided, so we took over an hour looking at 3 or 4 hotels and then decided to stay at the first one we saw..... typical. We parked up the bike and got settled in, went into the town and immediately felt more foreign then ever - no tourists just locals, all very friendly mind you. This town could only be 2Km square with a few thousand people and oddly 400 taxi's, we have never seen so many in such a small town, we wondered what they did and who went where....very odd.
Anyway we found a small place in which to eat, Sandra's mastery of the Spanish language saw two perfectly cooked cheese toasties turn up on our table, they were really nice. To finish off we thought we would have a banana split. Now I could order these easily at it was advertised in big letters on the front window. "Dos" I said to the helpless waitress as I pointed at the big letters on the window. She smiled at went off to make them. Feeling pleased with myself I sat back down and readied myself for the fruit and ice feast we would surely be eating. Sadly we had to eat another round of cheese toasties as our waitress had not understood a dam thing. We toyed with trying again but the moment had gone and a third cheese toastie would have pushed us over the edge. So, we bought two cans of beer and went back to our room. It was only then in the dingy light of a single uncovered bulb, the old wooden ceiling fan pushing only hot air around the pale yellow walls and barred windows, that I realised how like an old 1950 movie it was, The hapless Europeans lay side by side on a cotton coved mattress in the Columbian heat trying to keep cool sipping beer from a can and eventually Irish whiskey straight from the bottle. It made us both smile.
The next morning we woke early, this was easy as we never actually went to sleep. Saturday night is party night in Honda and boy, these chaps party on. Music, shouting, police sirens and just as I nodded off at around 5 am, the cathedral bell ringers, who obviously live 50 miles away decided it was time the Robinson's had had enough sleep and the call to church was made.
From Honda it was more fantastic roads to Pereira which was our next planned stop. We now have a plan regarding finding a hotel. You find the best one you can, often very posh, ask the rate (knowing full well you cant afford it). Then look sad and ask for another hotel, one of two things will happen, The rate is reduced as if by magic or (this is my favorite) the bell boy will tell you where you can get a really good hotel at a really good rate. Works every time. Anyway, after we had got our fantastically overpriced rate and we both looked sad the rain outside started to come down. It got faster and faster, hail, winds and a proper storm hit us. It was incredible,
We waited out the storm with some anxiety as the shed was left outside and by luck facing into wind or she would have been over. The doors from the overpriced hotel actually blew in and water was everywhere, And as soon as it started it stopped. We found our way to the responsibly priced hotel and had a great night.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
End of Chapter Three.......On to Chapter Four
The trip from Granada to the Costa Rica border was uneventful passing through some incredible green lush rainforest's. We stayed quiet close to the border that night in a beautiful sea side village of San Juan. A really nice hotel sat behind a deserted beach with beach huts and restaurants dotted around the sea shore. We felt very at home here, even looking at properties in estate agents windows and dreaming of moving one day. We ate in one beach restaurant which was really nice but used exactly the same methods of shooing away dogs and tramps alike. The latter showing his contempt for the whole affair by taking a dump in the sea. All very odd.
I am not even going to mention the border crossing into Costa Rica, but it was the usual nonsense and I had sworn to myself the next crossing into Panama would be under our own steam without help from anyone.
The main landscape in Costa Rica is jungle like and the roads are pretty good, that is until we came across a new bridge construction which took us on a 30Km detour over gravel and mud roads. This detour also took us across some banana bridges. These are old rail bridges which used to move the cargo of the booming banana trade some 60 years back to the rest of the banana hungry world. Now long unused, these bridges haven't seen a train in twenty years but are used to move traffic. The surfaces are wood and steel with bits missing and its fun to ride, if your careful
We had a break after this off roading stint, a coffee in a road side cafe. Just as we where leaving we met an other Brit who turned up on a Honda African twin. Simon had been traveling some 51 weeks and was heading south to north.
A really great character and all round nice chap with a formidable scene of humor. It was good to try out sarcastic humor again for a change, something the north and central Americans fail to see any humor in at all. We chatted for a while then said our goodbyes and set off in opposite directions. After a while the rain started and we got caught in a bit of a downpour so the next town we decided to stop. A very basic hotel, beer, meal and bed.
The next morning was our crossing into Panama. We had promised ourselves to do this unaided and this we duly did. One of the smoothest and cheapest crossing we had. It had taken all them border crossings to get the hang of it all, but we did it eventually. The crossing took us about two hours and the shed needed to be fumagated, I guess due to the fact it had had two sweaty bodies on it for 4 months, then we had reached our last central American country ?. Panama.
It was just one stop before we reached Panama city and that was in Santiago, yes I know its the capital of Chile but this is another one. This one is a dump, with only one good hotel which we took. A bright, and I mean very bright hotel, greens yellows reds and blues all led to a cheerful environment. The usual afternoon rain came in buckets but we were dry and having a meal by 3 o'clock. The next day was to Panama city. What a big surprise this place is. Lots and lots of sky scrapers with lots more being built, busy and clean. It's contrasted by the shanty towns pressed against the multi million dollar constructions giving the city an odd feel. We knew we needed the airport where we had planned to fly the bike to Columbia. We had been given instructions on hotels near to the airport but when we reached the terminal, non of these instructions seem to match up with what we were seeing with our own eyes..... very odd. Anyway time was pressing on and we found a little place where we would stay for the night and decided to find the cargo terminal the next morning. It was only later in the evening and looking at a detailed map we found that Panama City has two airports and Sandra had directed us to the wrong one. Now in her blog she might blame me for this little blunder but be assured blog reader this was all Sandra's fault......... it was.........no really it was
We met a very enthusiastic chap from Venezuela over a few beers. He really was enthralled about our trip so much so he asked for our autographs.... fame at last
The next morning saw us doing the 20Km to the correct airport and the hostel we knew we was there. The backpacker Hostel is basic but cheap. Part time running water, and creatures invading your room. It was a perfect hold up for three nights so we could complete the task of shipping the bike to Columbia. We also met another Canadian biker there John, who was going through the same difficult task with his bike. We had decided to ship our bikes with the globebusters tour who we met back in Granada Nicaragua. Over the next few days we sorted out the tangle of wheres and whens and got the bike on the plane with 17 other BMW's. We bought ourselves some air tickets and off we went too.........South America hear we come.
Now we have all heard the awful stories of Columbia and Bogot?, but our first impressions are that this city is warm and friendly clean and in the right places , safe. A taxi ride from the airport to the downtown hotel had us ogling at a very nice city indeed. It only took a few hours of work with the agent and customs to release the bike (thanks to Kevin, Roddy and their team) we were told we could leave. This was not as straight forward as it seems. The bikes where in the shipping agents compound and the only way out was through the companies front entrance. This meant riding the bike through office corridors and out of the glass main door, down one lot of six steps and a second lot of two steps. Thankfully it all went well.
So this is it. The final chapter.... South America. This is going to be the most interesting part of our journey. As funds dwindle and time marches on who knows if we can reach our goal. We will enjoy trying that's for sure
I am not even going to mention the border crossing into Costa Rica, but it was the usual nonsense and I had sworn to myself the next crossing into Panama would be under our own steam without help from anyone.
The main landscape in Costa Rica is jungle like and the roads are pretty good, that is until we came across a new bridge construction which took us on a 30Km detour over gravel and mud roads. This detour also took us across some banana bridges. These are old rail bridges which used to move the cargo of the booming banana trade some 60 years back to the rest of the banana hungry world. Now long unused, these bridges haven't seen a train in twenty years but are used to move traffic. The surfaces are wood and steel with bits missing and its fun to ride, if your careful
We had a break after this off roading stint, a coffee in a road side cafe. Just as we where leaving we met an other Brit who turned up on a Honda African twin. Simon had been traveling some 51 weeks and was heading south to north.
A really great character and all round nice chap with a formidable scene of humor. It was good to try out sarcastic humor again for a change, something the north and central Americans fail to see any humor in at all. We chatted for a while then said our goodbyes and set off in opposite directions. After a while the rain started and we got caught in a bit of a downpour so the next town we decided to stop. A very basic hotel, beer, meal and bed.
The next morning was our crossing into Panama. We had promised ourselves to do this unaided and this we duly did. One of the smoothest and cheapest crossing we had. It had taken all them border crossings to get the hang of it all, but we did it eventually. The crossing took us about two hours and the shed needed to be fumagated, I guess due to the fact it had had two sweaty bodies on it for 4 months, then we had reached our last central American country ?. Panama.
It was just one stop before we reached Panama city and that was in Santiago, yes I know its the capital of Chile but this is another one. This one is a dump, with only one good hotel which we took. A bright, and I mean very bright hotel, greens yellows reds and blues all led to a cheerful environment. The usual afternoon rain came in buckets but we were dry and having a meal by 3 o'clock. The next day was to Panama city. What a big surprise this place is. Lots and lots of sky scrapers with lots more being built, busy and clean. It's contrasted by the shanty towns pressed against the multi million dollar constructions giving the city an odd feel. We knew we needed the airport where we had planned to fly the bike to Columbia. We had been given instructions on hotels near to the airport but when we reached the terminal, non of these instructions seem to match up with what we were seeing with our own eyes..... very odd. Anyway time was pressing on and we found a little place where we would stay for the night and decided to find the cargo terminal the next morning. It was only later in the evening and looking at a detailed map we found that Panama City has two airports and Sandra had directed us to the wrong one. Now in her blog she might blame me for this little blunder but be assured blog reader this was all Sandra's fault......... it was.........no really it was
We met a very enthusiastic chap from Venezuela over a few beers. He really was enthralled about our trip so much so he asked for our autographs.... fame at last
The next morning saw us doing the 20Km to the correct airport and the hostel we knew we was there. The backpacker Hostel is basic but cheap. Part time running water, and creatures invading your room. It was a perfect hold up for three nights so we could complete the task of shipping the bike to Columbia. We also met another Canadian biker there John, who was going through the same difficult task with his bike. We had decided to ship our bikes with the globebusters tour who we met back in Granada Nicaragua. Over the next few days we sorted out the tangle of wheres and whens and got the bike on the plane with 17 other BMW's. We bought ourselves some air tickets and off we went too.........South America hear we come.
Now we have all heard the awful stories of Columbia and Bogot?, but our first impressions are that this city is warm and friendly clean and in the right places , safe. A taxi ride from the airport to the downtown hotel had us ogling at a very nice city indeed. It only took a few hours of work with the agent and customs to release the bike (thanks to Kevin, Roddy and their team) we were told we could leave. This was not as straight forward as it seems. The bikes where in the shipping agents compound and the only way out was through the companies front entrance. This meant riding the bike through office corridors and out of the glass main door, down one lot of six steps and a second lot of two steps. Thankfully it all went well.
So this is it. The final chapter.... South America. This is going to be the most interesting part of our journey. As funds dwindle and time marches on who knows if we can reach our goal. We will enjoy trying that's for sure
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